


A Visitor at the Window of the Sunset

by Fic_Request_Blog



Series: LotR Drabbles [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, Other, Self-Indulgent, What-If, nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9452162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fic_Request_Blog/pseuds/Fic_Request_Blog
Summary: What if it was Legolas captured by Faramir at Henneth Annun rather than Sam and Frodo?





	

The man came silently but swiftly into the cave, striding up to Faramir with a look of confused alarm. Without a word, he led the captain through the opening and quickly climbed the path to the left. Continuing out onto the mostly flat rock face overlooking the forbidden pool, the man pointed down, still un-speaking, to a figure kneeling next to the churning water.

Leaning forward cautiously on the slippery obsidian, Faramir peered down through the gloom of dusk. Damp from the continuous falls of Henneth Annun, the person, and it was of human shape, seemed to be gathering water in a small flask. To his astonishment, the man realized that before him was one of the ever-living, an elf.

Long golden tresses outlined an ethereal face with tell-tale pointed ears and sharp features adorned an obviously battle-tested body that moved with a grace beyond that of men. He was dressed in muted greens and earthy browns, seeming to blend with even the deepening blue of the pond. Only the hair stood out from the background, flowing gently around him with every movement.

The man next to him broke the captain out of his musings abruptly as he leaned in to breathe, "It is an elf?"

Surprise stopped short his nod when he noticed the elf visibly stiffen, though he was no longer facing them as he had turned to attend to the small camp he had set up.

'My lord', Faramir thought, 'he actually heard Anborn'

Slowly, intently, the elf rotated on his heel, head cocked to the side with bright eyes roaming. Quickly as he could, Faramir grabbed the man next to him, dragging him down, out of sight of those eyes.

Placing a finger to his lips, the captain slithered onto his stomach, across the bare rock to the path where he knew he was in sight of the men strategically positioned about the pool. Raising a hand, he clenched it into a fist, holding two fingers forward. Anborn had followed him, and, with that signal, slowly drew out his bow, quickly retracing their earlier steps down the path. This time, however, he went straight, creeping in parallel to the position of their visitor.

The elf was obviously on guard, though he had no reason to be for the men of Gondor had made no audible noise as they drew forth their weapons. Suddenly, with a cry, two men leapt from the shadowed cover of the trees, brandishing great-swords.

Faster than most of them could follow, the stranger whipped out two curving blades and parried the oncoming men, who, merely rolling off, came back from the same direction to attack once again. Only then did the elf realize his mistake, gasping slightly as his eyes flew wide open.

But, it was too late.

The pommel of a sword connected heavily with his skull, inevitably dropping him to his knees. The last sight his darkening eyes distinguished were boots, travel-worn boots of men he did not yet have a name for.

Faramir sighed as he watched the ambush play out; thanking whatever fate that blessed them that no one was injured. It may have been less risky to just shoot the elf down as he knew he was supposed to, but the man had a feeling that those around him would have been none-too-excited to carry out the deed on so fair a creature.

Without haste, the captain turned back to the path he had climbed up by. It would still be some time till the elf awoke from the blow. He winced inwardly, pitying the poor thing for the headache it would be bound to wake with.

Ducking into the cave, the man slowly made his way the back where he knew the elf had been carried. The men handling it were surprisingly gentle, trying their best to make the unconscious form as comfortable as possible on the mat he was laid upon. The legs were bound securely, though not too tightly, as well as the wrists, which were placed upon his slumbering breast. Of course, a blindfold was softly tucked over the eyes, at least until the elf was deemed an ally.

As the excitement died down and men returned to their duties, Faramir pulled a chair over, deciding to take the first watch over their sleeping guest. His gear was fantastic, both blades forged into beautiful, arcing works of art and the bow, so graceful as to seem as though the very earth had crafted it, was sturdy yet lithe.

Somehow, though their magnificence was great, these weapons could not be compared to their wielder. Having never once seen an elf in the flesh before, the man could not describe the sheer dignified elegance that this creature held, even in the midst of sleep. Faramir was so engulfed in his musings as he stared at the elf lying before him that it took both his name and a quick shake to rouse him.

"Captain, you should rest. Your watch is long over. We shall wake you if he stirs."

"Thank you, Damrod."

Wearily, the man stepped to his bed, falling into untroubled dreams of flowing gold as his head came to rest upon the mat.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A groan escaped his lips as he awoke, instantly reaching his hands towards his pounding skull only to find them restrained by ropes. He jerked, finally beginning to remember what had happened the night before.

"Do not try to move," a strong voice said above him, slowly helping him into a sitting position against a fur-lined wall.

Quietly, Damrod returned to Faramir's side, shaking him from his rest, "My Lord, the elf has awoken."

"Understood," he replied, grasping the hand offered as he stood, glancing towards their unusual guest. Shrugging, the captain strode over, seating himself directly on the floor in front of their visitor.

"Tell me your name and why you walk in Ithilien."

He sighed as his request was met by stubborn silence, "Mablung, please fetch our guest a drink. We are not here to harm you; however, I cannot release you until you are deemed friend. Tell me your name and errand."

It was some time till the elf spoke; after a cool drink had been pressed to his lips and thoughts had been brought under consideration, only then did he speak, "I am Legolas from, Greenwood the Great, or Mirkwood, as Men may call it. Of my errand I will say nothing other than it may not be told to the Enemy. So, tell me, may I consider you friend?"

Faramir smiled slightly, "I would hope so. I am Faramir of Gondor. My errand is to reduce the movements of the Enemy, or to at least harass what we cannot stop."

The captain watched as a slow nod was given to him, "Then our errands would overlap. Before I speak, may I ask of your relationship to a Boromir, son of Denethor, also of Gondor?"

Raising a brow at the sudden intake of breath, the elf continued to nod through each of Faramir's rapid questions, "You knew Boromir? Were you a part of his party? Do you know his errand? Was his dream solved?"

"All of those I can answer yes to, but you have yet to answer my own question. Who were you to Boromir?"

Though he could not see it, Legolas felt the tension thicken within the room as the man in front of him spoke, "He was our Captain, our most beloved captain. Tell me, what happened to him? Do youknow of his death?"

Frowning slightly, the elf sighed, "Yes, he was protecting two of our companions who were beset by orcs. More than two dozen lay dead at his feet before he fell, four arrows of black shafts embedded in his great stature. Our companions live only because of your captain."

"I found him floating down the river Anduin, below the falls of Rauros in a boat of the make I could not guess. He seemed more beautiful than in life. Were you the one to lay him to rest?"

"I, and two different companions. The boat was of Lothlorien, the Golden Wood."

Slowly, bending forward, Faramir removed the blindfold gently, "You have my thanks. He was my brother."

Blue eyes went wide at the title next given him, "I am Faramir, son of Denethor, steward of Gondor."

Legolas looked away, "Forgive us, we could not save him."

"No! I do not blame you. You give me the only piece of condolence of his death; that it was not in vain."

Carefully, the son of Denethor released the elf of his bonds, "I deem you friend and ally to Gondor. You have my blessing to walk in the land of Ithilien unharmed by the men of Gondor for as long as you may."  



End file.
